


A Fire Inside

by JustJasper



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Established Relationship, Figging, Food Sex, M/M, Object Insertion, Overstimulation, Post-Game, Post-Trespasser, pain play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-03
Updated: 2016-10-03
Packaged: 2018-08-19 10:25:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8201983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustJasper/pseuds/JustJasper
Summary: Dorian and Bull experiment with a little spice. (Bull puts ginger up Dorian's butt).





	

**“Perhaps in nearly every joy, as certainly in every pleasure, cruelty has its place.” - Oscar Wilde**

“This isn't punishment,” the Bull reminds him. “You can still use your word.”

“I know.”

He knows it well. He'd never been much for punishment or humiliation, not as a boy, a student, an apprentice, and certainly not as a lover. The Bull has never expressed an interest in punishing him. The Bull has never expressed anything at odds with Dorian's sexuality. It was a point of contention, once.

_"You can't offend me by having a desire I don't share. I'll simply say no," and "there must be something you want that I'd be unwilling to entertain."_

There wasn't.

Dorian has learned, over months and years in each others life if not always in each other's company, that the Bull could enjoy almost anything, if the person he's with is enjoying it. He's learned to trust the Bull.

"Do you want me to tie you up?"

"No, but if I try to run away without using my watchword, I expect you to hold me down."

"So you can struggle, helpless in my grip..."

"You know, the more you use a turn of phrase, the less aroused by it I am."

"Liar."

He's half hard already, watching the Bull peel a phallic ginger root of its rough flesh with a sharp knife, so most definitely a liar. It's about the size of one of the Bull's fingers, with a piece at the base to stop it getting lost.

"Strip."

Dorian does so, making a meal of it, knowing the Bull is watching. If he happens to take time to reveal his flesh, what of it? The Bull doesn't hurry him, lets him preen a little as he sheds his clothing.

"Come here."

There's a large heavy table in the villa's dining room, though usually it's only them, and they eat at the kitchen table together. Now Dorian perches himself on the worn-smooth wooden surface of the dining table, in front of the Bull, sitting in the accompanying chair and still dressed.

"Lie down."

"Aren't you being bossy! Will you make me, if I don't?"

It's a little ungenerous - he knows full they're instructions, rather than orders, but it _was_ the Bull that set his mind of the path of struggling.

The Bull stands, and then puts his huge hand on Dorian's chest and pushes him down to the table; not hard enough that he slams his head on the wood, but hard enough that it was a minor risk. Like that then, tonight. How delightful.

He's pulled roughly forward so his ass his near the edge of the table, his legs hanging off the edge, wide open as the Bull gets between them and settles into the chair again.

"Nice view down there?"

"Really nice! I like what you've done with the bushes. Very natural!"

Dorian snorts a laugh, and the Bull spreads his hands over the insides of Dorian's thighs.

"Get on with it."

The Bull slides the ginger plug into him in one smooth push. It's cool, slick enough not to use warmed oil, but it settles without any discomfort.

"So we just wait for it to take effect?"

"We pass the time," the Bull says. He leans down to kiss the crease of Dorian's thigh, presses his stubble along the sensitive flesh. It leaves warmth in the wake of the touch, a mirror to the warmth quickly spreading from the ginger inside him.

"You feel it yet?"

"It's warm. It's rather nice."

"What does it feel like?"

"Not like anything I've had before. Certainly not like your cock. It's so _warm_."

When his body squeezes around the ginger, the warmth spreads, and if this is all the sensation he can hope for, then it's hardly worth the effort. The Bull had promised him more. The Bull had warned him of pain, knowingly.

"So who stuck ginger up your ass?"

"A Tamassran."

"I might have guessed. Why?"

"Don't know, exactly. They decide what you need, mostly. Pain's grounding, or some crap."

"State-mandated ginger sodomy."

"It's better than the Orlesians. They put it up horse's butts."

"Well, how Orlesians get their kicks is hardly a shock at this point. They've always-- ooh."

The tingling inside him starts small, a buzz of sensation spreading all the length of the plug inside him. He squeezes around it, and it burns bright and hot, making his gasp. He relaxes and it eases to the tingling again. When he peers down, the Bull is smiling at him, eyes soft and observant.

"How's it feel now?"

"Strange. Not unpleasant, mostly."

"Hm. More intense when you clench up, huh?"

The Bull lowers his tongue to swipe it over Dorian's cock. Dorian's body reacts without thought; his cock twitches and his ass clenches around the ginger, sending a spark of heat through him.

"Ah!"

Dorian tries to force himself to relax. It doesn't hurt, exactly, but it's much more intense when his body presses to it. It would be easier to avoid if the Bull wasn't nuzzling at his balls, if he didn't wrap his hand around Dorian's cock and start to stroke him. His body wants to react, and Dorian wills it not to, but the tingling sensation grows even in the absence of muscles clenching.

"You are cruel," Dorian says. The Bull only hums with amusement, stroking him leisurely.

It's hot inside his body now, much more than when it's the Bull's fingers, or the Bull's cock stretching him. It's an entirely different sensation - he can no longer really feel the shape of the ginger root inside him, only the heat that seems to fill him, to radiate outwarms in one long, unforgiving glow.

The Bull takes Dorian's cock into his mouth, Dorian's body clenches unwillingly and the ginger burns.

"Vishante kaffas!"

He was prepared for it to hurt, in theory. Ginger is a spice, so of course it's hot, and of course it's hot on his very sensitive insides. Still, he couldn't imagine the intensity of it, the way it feels like his insides are on fire.

He squirms in a futile attempt to dislodge the ginger. The Bull presses a hand to his stomach and holds him to the table, while he sucks his cock. Dorian's palms are sweaty against the wooden tabletop.

The Bull is using tricks tried and tested to make Dorian lose his mind to make him clench around the ginger inside him, but what would usually drive him quickly towards a finish without a concerted effort to hold back, is held back by the pain, the exquisite burning inside him.

If he uses his watchword it will all be over. He could use a spell to purge himself of the ginger oil that is making his body burn, and it'll stop hurting.

But he rather wants to know how it feels to come like this.

"If you don't let me come--"

The Bull pulls off his cock with a wet pop.

"You'll what? I'm not punishing you, remember? You can come."

"I can't," he pants. "I need more."

"More what?"

"More! Just more." It burns so intensely now, that the Bull's hand on his stomach is pressed down hard to keep him from thrashing. "You'll be the death of me, amatus."

"For not letting you come?"

"Yes!"

Laughing, the Bull takes Dorian's cock into his mouth again, and sucks him down to the root. Dorian groans, clenches, and practically wails at the way that makes his insides light up with pain.

Then the Bull reaches down, and the brush of his knuckles are the only warning Dorian gets before he grabs the ginger and moves it, pulling out and thrusting it back in. Dorian yells, triple sensations almost too much. 'Katoh' is on his lips on instinct, but it is so glorious in its torture, pain and pleasure blurred into one suffocating feeling.

The Bull uses the wicked curve of the thing, the squeeze of his throat, to make Dorian suffer beautifully, so close, so close, but not enough to outweigh the pain. He'll die here, feeling like this. It'll go on forever and he'll simply go mad. He thrashes, knocks his head against the table, hands scrabbling for purchase on its surface as the Bull holds him down and fucks him with pure fire.

He comes suddenly, body burning, and empties down the Bull's waiting throat.

The ginger is gone from inside him by the time his brain has returned from wherever it wandered at the point of orgasm. The burn has faded, but his body feels aching and sore, still tingling mildly.

"I feel renewed sympathy for Orlesian horses."

The Bull laughs, still between his legs. Then he kisses the insides of Dorian's thighs, and stands to help Dorian sit up. His ass aches with the shifting motion, but he flops forward onto the Bull's chest anyway.

"You know," the Bull says, as he wraps Dorian up in his arms, "I was thinking maybe I'd make us that ginger chicken you like for dinner."

Dorian swears, and digs his fingers painfully into the Bull's ribs.

**“To be in love is to love the pleasures of being in love. To love truly is to love all beings and the world for who or what they truly are.” - Joseph Rain**


End file.
